When day is done, and clouds are low,
And flowers are honey-dew,
And Hesper's lamp begins to read more

When day is done, and clouds are low,
And flowers are honey-dew,
And Hesper's lamp begins to glow
Along the western blue;
And homeward wing the turtle-doves,
Then comes the hour the poet loves.

I was heavy with the even,
When she lit her glimmering tapers
Round the day's dead sanctities.
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I was heavy with the even,
When she lit her glimmering tapers
Round the day's dead sanctities.
I laughed in the morning's eyes.

And whiter grows the foam,
The small moon lightens more;
And as I turn me home,
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And whiter grows the foam,
The small moon lightens more;
And as I turn me home,
My shadow walks before.

One by one the flowers close,
Lily and dewy rose
Shutting their tender petals from the moon.

One by one the flowers close,
Lily and dewy rose
Shutting their tender petals from the moon.

Now came still evening on; and twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad:
Silence read more

Now came still evening on; and twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad:
Silence accompanied; for beast and bird,
They to they grassy couch, these to their nests,
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale.

How gently rock yon poplars high
Against the reach of primrose sky
With heaven's pale candles stored.

How gently rock yon poplars high
Against the reach of primrose sky
With heaven's pale candles stored.

Day hath put on his jacket, and around
His burning bosom buttoned it with stars.

Day hath put on his jacket, and around
His burning bosom buttoned it with stars.

The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.

The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.

To me at least was never evening yet
But seemed far beautifuller than its day.

To me at least was never evening yet
But seemed far beautifuller than its day.